


A Prince Among Men

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-23 15:18:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was really all semantics...what difference does it make if you're a prince or a Prince? In some regards, it's an awful lot. In others...not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Prince Among Men

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by the wonderful [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=fifercat19)[**fifercat19**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=fifercat19). This story began as crack and turned into the anti-crack. As such, I feel it's appropriate to dedicate it to the amazing [](http://alisanne.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**alisanne**](http://alisanne.dreamwidth.org/), not only because it's her birthday and she deserves fic, but for being such an incredible individual and one of the reasons I have really come to love fandom. I would not be half as active as I am without all your support, encouragement, and positive, Snarry-loving spirit. Snarry is so lucky to have you. *hugs*

  
**Author:** [](http://emynn.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**emynn**](http://emynn.dreamwidth.org/)  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Warnings:** Nothing beyond the usual man-on-man loving and complete disregard to a certain epilogue.  
 **Disclaimer:** Anything you recognize is not mine. Sad.  
 **Word Count:** 18,291  
 **Summary:** It was really all semantics...what difference does it make if you're a prince or a Prince? In some regards, it's an awful lot. In others...not at all.  
 **Author's Notes:** Beta read by the wonderful [](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=fifercat19)[**fifercat19**](http://www.dreamwidth.org/profile?user=fifercat19). This story began as crack and turned into the anti-crack. As such, I feel it's appropriate to dedicate it to the amazing [](http://alisanne.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**alisanne**](http://alisanne.dreamwidth.org/) , not only because it's her birthday and she deserves fic, but for being such an incredible individual and one of the reasons I have really come to love fandom. I would not be half as active as I am without all your support, encouragement, and positive, Snarry-loving spirit. Snarry is so lucky to have you. *hugs*

Harry shrugged off his coat and slung it over his arm. Each Tuesday for eighteen months he had entered St. Mungo’s, and each time he was greeted with the same tired reiteration of Severus Snape’s state.

“He’s awake, Mister Potter.”

Harry stopped so abruptly in his path that he nearly tripped over himself. He looked at the Welcome Witch in shock.

“Are you serious?”

She nodded and smiled as she twirled a golden curl around a perfectly-manicured finger. “Woke up this morning. It’s always so nice when these miracles happen, isn’t it? Makes you feel kind of happy to be alive.” She smiled up at Harry hopefully and batted her lashes. “My shift is up at six if you’d like to celebrate.”

Harry forced a friendly grin but shook his head. Chantel had been flirting with him like mad ever since _Witch Weekly_ broke the news that he and Ginny had split up more than a year ago. His perpetually single state hadn’t helped matters. “No, I really should see how Professor Snape is doing. I’ll see you later, Chantel.”

He turned to walk quickly down the familiar corridor and then, deciding he didn’t care what people thought, broke into a run. Snape was awake! He had somehow survived that terrifying snakebite. Finally, Harry felt vindicated for insisting that everybody stop everything they were doing the day of that last battle to return to the Shack to see if there was anything that could be done to save Snape. For more than a year, he had endured all of their whispers and laughs, but he knew, he just _knew_ , that Snape was going to be okay.

Harry burst through the door and smiled broadly at the sight that greeted him. There was Healer Wilhelm, carefully measuring out potions into bottles on the side table underneath the window and, bathed in sunlight, was Severus Snape, sitting upright in bed, his black hair flowing over his shoulders like velvet drapes.

“Professor!” Harry couldn’t help but shout. “It’s true!”

Healer Wilhelm turned to Harry and smiled wanly. He looked exhausted. “Good evening, Mister Potter. I presume you heard the news?”

Harry nodded, unable to look away from Snape. He looked brilliant, considering how the last time his eyes were open about half the blood in his body was staining the floor of the Shrieking Shack. Sure, he was paler than usual and his face had a few more lines, not to mention the ugly pink scars on his neck, but he was awake and alert and _alive_.

“Chantel told me on my way in,” he confirmed. “It’s just amazing. How is he?”

“Physically, he appears to be fine,” Wilhelm said in a low voice. “Mentally, there appear to be some…issues.”

“Really, your manners are appalling,” Snape sniped from the bed. “I accept that perhaps in this day and age a teenager cannot be expected to bow, but the least you could do is greet a prince on his sickbed with a modicum of respect.”

Harry turned to Snape, confused. “Professor?”

“You know, that must be the hundredth time I’ve heard of this _professor_ character since I’ve been awake. I should like to meet this gentleman; perhaps he would have some suggestions on how to pound some sense into all of your thick skulls.”

Harry felt vaguely dizzy. “Does he not remember?” he whispered to Wilhelm.

“Bits and pieces,” Wilhelm replied in the same hushed tone. “But he seems to think he’s royalty.”

Harry would have laughed if he hadn’t been so frightened. He had been so hopeful that Severus would simply wake up that he hadn’t even seriously considered the possibility of him having neurological damage.

“Honestly, it’s terribly rude to be talking about somebody when he’s right in front of you. And I’ll have you know I know _exactly_ who I am. I don’t understand why you idiots keep questioning it.”

Wilhelm moved to a desk at the side of the room and sat down to write. “Of course, your highness. You’ll have to forgive us; it’s not every day we have a prince in our rooms.” He set down his quill and handed the parchment to Harry. “I imagine you’ll want to read the updates on his condition.”

Harry took the scroll and quickly scanned it. _Play along,_ it read. _It’s the safest option for now. We can discuss more later._

“Obviously,” Snape sniffed. “Otherwise I would hope your behavior would be at least slightly more dignified.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin a bit at that. Sure, maybe Snape had delusions of royalty, but as long as that trademark snippiness remained, Harry knew he would have a full recovery.

“Prof – I mean, your highness, do you remember who I am?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “Of course I do, you twit. You are my chosen one.”

Harry chuckled. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“And why not?” Snape asked, clearly puzzled. “You are my intended, and I have chosen you above all others. I’m certain I’ve referred to you as my chosen one before.”

Harry stood stunned, unable to form words. Did Snape really think they were some sort of item?

“Now, Harry here is known to our world as _the_ Chosen One,” Wilhelm said carefully. “He did save us all from You Know Who.”

“I don’t know who, but that’s of no import at the moment,” Snape said with an impatient wave of his hand. “Harry is my fiancé, so I’m afraid I don’t give a damn what the rest of the world calls him. He is mine.”

Wilhelm eyed Harry nervously. “Harry, if you like – “

“Wilhelm, why don’t you leave the two of us alone for a bit so we can catch up?” Harry interrupted. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’ll let you know if I need you.”

Wilhelm looked hesitant, but nodded. “Anything at all,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

Alone with just his former professor, Harry closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. To think he had come in expecting this to be just another day of keeping vigil by Snape for a few hours, and now the man who had despised him as long as he had known him was calling him his fiancé. No wonder he had a headache.

“I apologize for my rudeness towards you. I’ve been rather frustrated with my level of care.” Snape’s tone was soft, hesitant. “But I would have thought you’d be happy to see me awake. The Healer assured me I was near death.”

Harry sighed and pulled a chair over so he was next to Snape’s bed. “I am happy, honestly. It’s just that it’s been so long that I guess I’m in a bit of shock.”

Snape nodded. “I understand. What happened to me, precisely? The Healer fed me this ridiculous story, but it made no sense. We really should look into a new Healer; I don’t think this man is particularly bright or has a sound memory. He kept forgetting the names of people in the story and refusing to elaborate when I reminded him numerous times that no, I did _not_ know who this man who was saying did all those atrocious things was and it would serve both of us well if he would just call the man by his blasted name instead of continuously assuming I know who he is referring to. I certainly don’t trust such an absent-minded twit of a Healer to help me.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, not certain where to begin. Snape didn’t seem to have any recollection of Voldemort or his time as a Death Eater, and there was no way Harry was going to be able to explain all that to him now. “Well, there was this evil man, Voldemort, and he had a giant snake.”

“Ah, so the snake part of the quack’s story was correct. Interesting,” Severus nodded. “Why did the snake bite me?”

Harry struggled to reply. “He…well, you see…”

“I was protecting you, wasn’t it?” Snape asked. “I needed to save you.”

Harry’s eyes burned hot. “Yes,” he choked out, slightly surprised by the emotion overtaking him. So many times he had wondered what their conversation would be like when Severus finally woke up. Harry had assumed there would be a lot of screaming before Severus let him apologize for being a self-centered prick for so many years. The sincerity in Severus’s voice was rather unsettling…especially since he was so plainly speaking the truth Harry had only recently come to realize. “Yes. You were always protecting me.”

Snape held out his hand palm-up to Harry. “Don’t cry, my Harry. I’ll always protect you and would never have it any other way. You are mine.”

Harry cautiously placed his hand in Snape’s, who immediately twined their fingers together. Harry had held Snape’s hand before, on those days when hope seemed impossible and he was drowning in despair, but it seemed strange to be doing so when Snape was awake.

“I’m tired now,” Snape announced. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Harry nodded. “Of course.”

~*~

Harry eased the door shut behind him, careful not to make a sound. He had waited for about ten minutes after Snape had fallen asleep to leave and didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Wilhelm was waiting outside in the corridor. “He let you leave?”

“Asleep.” Harry leaned against the wall and arched his head up. He felt exhausted, but something told him there was no way he’d be able to sleep tonight. “What happened?”

“He woke up this morning,” Wilhelm replied. “The venom is entirely out of his system, and all of his tests are turning up normal. The only thing is – ”

“He thinks he’s a prince,” Harry finished. A sudden thought occurred to him. “You know, his mother’s maiden name was Prince, and he did refer to himself as a Prince when he was in school. Do you think that could be a part of it?”

Wilhelm nodded, stroking his graying goatee. “Yes, that could be it. Perhaps at the moment he can only remember those aspects of his life that he held the most important to him. If he identifies himself as a Prince, that _would_ make sense. He’s only confused exactly what _kind_ of prince he is.”

“That makes sense,” Harry agreed. “But he remembers who I am. And he, well –” He felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment.

“Ah,” Wilhelm said delicately. “Am I correct to assume you and Professor Snape did not have a romantic relationship prior to the snake bite?”

“No!” Harry explained. He crossed his arms across his chest, feeling a bit sheepish about his vehemence. “No. He hated me.”

“Hate is a powerful emotion,” Wilhelm mused. “Just as powerful as love. Perhaps he has the two similarly confused in his mind.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at that. Snape hated him so much that when he woke up, one of the few things he “remembered” was that he loved him? Wasn’t that a trip?

“I’m sure he will improve with time,” Wilhelm continued. “It’s quite promising that he does at least somewhat remember important parts of his life.”

“So what do we do in the meantime?” Harry asked. “Just play along?”

“I think that may be best. If we disagree with him and correct him, I’m concerned he’ll grow frustrated and regress. I’d say we should act as though he is a prince and ask questions in hopes of getting him to remember more and more of his past, and then hopefully he will sort out the confusion on his own.”

Harry nodded. He didn’t like the idea of lying, but he supposed if it was for Snape’s own good and it didn’t last for very long, he could handle it. “Okay. Will he stay here in the meantime?”

Wilhelm looked hesitant. “He could. But given how there is nothing physically wrong with him, I’m afraid others may not be so accommodating of him continuing to have a private room, and I don’t see how a ‘prince’ would accept being in a common room with the other riffraff.”

“Well, we can’t just send him home by himself!” Harry said. “He thinks he’s a bloody prince. Who knows what trouble he could get up to?”

“I agree,” Wilhelm said. “I just don’t see what other option we have.”

“He can come with me,” Harry said immediately, not even fully realizing what he was saying until the words were out of his mouth. “He already thinks we’re engaged, so he wouldn’t question it. And I’ve finally gotten my house together, so there’s plenty of room.”

“Are you absolutely certain?” Wilhelm asked. “This is a tremendous responsibility, and having to maintain such a façade would certainly be exhausting.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Harry insisted. “The man is a hero, and he’s saved my life countless times. I can’t just leave him alone at a time like this. Kingsley won’t mind if I take a couple of weeks off work. He’s been on me to take a holiday for ages.”

Wilhelm still looked concerned, but he nodded. “Well, it’s not much of a holiday for you. But if you’re certain, I’ll go arrange it now. I’d like to keep him for another day to run some more tests. Would you be able to take him home tomorrow evening?”

“I can manage that,” Harry said. He began to run through a mental checklist of all the cleaning he would have to do about the house to make it appropriate for a prince. Well, there was likely no way it would ever be up to _that_ standard, but he could at least make it so Professor Snape wouldn’t bite his head off for it. Maybe.

“Harry?”

Harry jumped at the voice coming from the room behind him. He didn’t think he would ever get use to hearing Snape call him by his given name, and especially not in such a tender voice. He gave Wilhelm a shaky smile. “His majesty awaits.”

~*~

“You have no house elves?”

“Uh, no. Don’t really have a need,” Harry replied. “I’ll have supper ready in about twenty minutes. Would you like something to drink while you wait?” Harry retrieved a glass for himself and filled it with water. Nervousness tended to make him thirsty.

Snape shook his head. His eyes traversed the room as he took in his new surroundings. “No, thank you.” He paused. “Is this our countryside cottage?”

Harry continued bustling about the kitchen, careful to avoid looking at Snape. He thought he’d get better at being able to keep a straight face around Snape, but so far it was still proving to be rather difficult. “Um, no. This is where I live all the time. We don’t have a countryside cottage yet.”

Snape nodded slowly. He didn’t look entirely repulsed by Harry’s home, but he did seem rather perplexed. “We don’t live together?”

Harry coughed and took a casual sip from the glass. “No, we didn’t. We were, well, waiting for marriage,” he said, struck with a flash of inspiration.

“Ah, we had to protect your virtue. I know I’m a traditionalist, but I have to admit I’m rather surprised I managed to resist your charms. But I suppose the old vows do work best with a virgin as a participant. Harry, are you choking?”

Harry leaned over the counter, still sputtering. “Just…need…water,” he gasped.

“I believe drinking water was what landed you in this spot in the first place.” Snape moved until he was behind Harry and slapped him on the back. “Come now.”

Harry took a few deep breaths and finally managed to regain his composure. “Sorry,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “You’re right. The water just went down the wrong way.”

“Hmm.” Snape did not remove his hand from Harry’s back. Rather, he was rubbing it in slow circles in very familiar manner.

“I need to get the chicken!” Harry blurted out, jumping away. He turned and saw Snape, his hand still in the air. His mouth was open slightly, as if words were frozen on his tongue, and his eyes were wide.

He looked rather, well, hurt.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered. He stiffly moved to get the chicken out of the oven. “Don’t know why I’m so jumpy today.”

“Harry, have I done something wrong? I know my memory is a bit hazy. Did we have an argument before I was bitten? If so, you needn’t feel obligated to keep me in. I am perfectly happy to stay at my castle.”

“Absolutely not,” Harry said firmly. “And nothing’s wrong. I guess I’m just not used to having company. And – wait, your castle?”

“Why yes, of course,” Severus said, as if he were speaking to a small child. “Hogwarts. I trust I’ve had you there before.”

“Ah, yeah. Yeah, you did. Many times. I practically lived there.”

Snape’s brow furrowed. “But then how did I manage not to deflower you if you were practically living in my castle? My willpower is not _that_ strong.”

“I think you underestimate yourself,” Harry said. “You are a man of great moral character. It just took me a while to see that.”

“Hmph. So long as you saw it eventually.” Snape pulled up a chair and sat down in it. With his arms resting at his side and the commanding tilt of his head, he looked the very image of a prince holding court. “Tell me more about my character.”

Harry began to carve the chicken with his wand as he contemplated his response. “You’re a harsh man. You hold everybody to the highest of standards and are not shy in voicing your displeasure. But you are a man of principle. You are a brave man, the bravest man I’ve ever known.” He thought of the memories he had seen of his mother, and of Snape clutching that piece of paper signed with her love as tears streamed down his sallow cheeks. “And when you love, you love for life, with an intensity that might frighten those who are not lucky enough to receive it.”

Snape sat silently for so long that Harry began to question his response. It had been easier that way, he thought, to answer Snape’s questions honestly without directly addressing the question of Snape’s royal status. It made him feel like less of a cad for lying so much, no matter how well intentioned. He began placing the chicken on two plates and noticed with some annoyance the way his hands trembled with nervousness.

Snape reached for Harry’s hand when he placed his plate in front of him. “I can see why I fell in love with you,” he said quietly.

Harry flushed. So much for feeling like less of a cad. He couldn’t help but feel he was exploiting Snape. The guilt was overwhelming. Unable to find words, he twisted his lips in what he hoped passed for a tender smile and sat down with his own plate.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Harry feigned a remarkable interest in his food. Snape ate slowly and methodically, and periodically cast inquisitive glances up at Harry. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to say or do something. The fact that Harry knew exactly what he wanted but couldn’t possibly provide in good conscience made him lose his appetite.

“I’m afraid I’m rather tired,” Snape announced after he ate the last of his asparagus. “Would you mind showing me to my room?”

Harry pushed back his chair. “Of course. Right this way.”

Harry’s house had four guestrooms. It was obviously too much for one person, but he still had hopes of one day having a family to fill it. For now, the largest guestroom would serve as Snape’s home. Fortunately, it had taken little work to improve it to what Harry hoped would be Snape’s tastes. The room had already been decorated in rich mahoganies with cream-colored sheets, which were neutral enough. All Harry had done was add a few bookshelves (stocked with books of Hermione’s choosing, of course) and a writing desk with plenty of quills and ink. He hoped that was enough for Snape.

Snape immediately opened the wardrobe. “Do I only have flannel nightshirts?” he asked, disdain dripping from his voice. “How… plebian.”

Harry bit back a laugh. “That’s all I saw at your place. I could give you some of my pyjamas. They’d be a bit small, but I’m sure I could transfigure them alright, at least until we get you some new ones.”

“Hmph. These will do for the time being. I see I also only have black robes.” He closed the door and cocked an eyebrow at Harry. “You cannot tell me that’s all I wore.”

“Sorry, I won’t tell you then.”

Snape looked scandalized. “Only black? I look like a vampire. We will have to remedy that as early as possible. A prince needs at least two plum robes, one navy, and one forest green. That’s not even to mention the dress robes!”

“Well, you won’t be needing any dress robes here,” Harry said with a grin, “but we can see to that tomorrow.”

“I shall need them for our wedding, of course.”

Harry froze. “Of course. But again, we can discuss it tomorrow. You should get some rest.”

Snape nodded. “Harry, you have treated me with the utmost of care for the past day. If I have not done so in the past, I do hope I will have the opportunity to repay you in the future.” And then, without so much of a by-your-leave, he leaned in and kissed Harry on the cheek. “Good night.”

Harry left the room in a daze.

~*~

Four hours later, he could still feel the burn of Snape’s lips on his cheek.

Harry groaned and buried his head in his hands. Well, wasn’t this just delightful? He had broken up with Ginny just months after defeating Voldemort because he found being with her more awkward and uncomfortable than loving and exciting. After a couple of lackluster dates with some exceptionally beautiful women, he had finally resigned himself that he just wasn’t cut out for love and all that came with it. But now he practically had a hard on just from a simple kiss on the cheek from Snape.

Could he actually be gay? The idea had floated about in his head for months, for years if he were being totally honest with himself, but it always seemed like a rather nebulous concept, some vague idea that he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around. But now? Now that he had felt Snape kiss his cheek and he felt as if his entire body and soul were on fire? That definitely made things seem a little more real.

He thought back over his actions of the past few days. It didn’t bother him that Snape thought they were in a relationship, just that he had to lie to him since it wasn’t true. He knew a lot of straight men wouldn’t let something like that slide. How many times had Ron turned beet red and blustered if somebody even hinted that he had done something slightly less than masculine?

It was at that very moment that Harry not only realized that he wouldn’t mind being in a relationship with another male, but that he might actually prefer it to dating a woman.

“Took me long enough,” he muttered. “Hermione would laugh at me for being so bloody dense.” But despite it all, he couldn’t help but smile. He felt lighter somehow and more at peace with the world around him. Tensions he didn’t realize still knotted up his shoulders melted away, and he felt the pleasant warmth of hope trickle back into his soul.

And with that, he retired to bed.

~*~

Harry rolled over and tugged the blankets closer around him. He had been startled awake by something, but now the house was silent. With some morbid curiosity, he checked the time. It was 5:47. With his luck, he’d never be able to get back to sleep. Groaning, he reached for another pillow to cover his head.

The sound of whimpers and moans coming from the next room stopped his movement. Harry began fumbling around for his glasses.

“SNAPE!”

Harry pushed the glasses on his face and bolted out of the room. He had no idea why Snape would be crying his own name, but the terror in his cry was rather unsettling.

Snape was thrashing wildly on the bed, the sheets so tangled around his limbs that it was as if he were in a straightjacket. Low moans continued to escape from his lips, punctuated by the odd shout of his own surname.

Harry quickly moved to the bed and placed a gentle hand on Snape’s shoulder. “Wake up. It’s just a bad dream.” He shook him slightly, afraid to aggravate him with too much motion. “Come on, Snape, wake up.”

Gradually, Snape’s tremors slowed and his breathing eased. When his eyes opened, Harry saw they were shining with unshed tears.

“You called me Snape,” Snape said hoarsely. “Why would you do that?”

Harry mentally kicked himself. He had assumed Snape had remembered his last name, but given the way he was screaming it earlier, Harry should have known that wasn’t the case. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. Are you okay? Would you like some water?”

Snape shook his head. He grasped Harry by the arm. “I’m Severus,” he said, his voice pleading and broken. “Severus.”

“Hush,” Harry said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. “I know you’re Severus.” Hesitantly, he pulled Severus up toward him and held him against his chest. With his other hand he stroked his hair. “Of course you’re Severus.”

All of Harry’s fears about it being too intimate a gestured eased away when Severus leaned into the embrace and buried his head in the crook of Harry’s neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Severus whispered.

“Of course,” Harry replied. “Want to tell me what your nightmare was about?”

Severus clutched at Harry’s shirt even more tightly. “It was ghastly. I think I’ve remembered who this You Know Who character is.”

“Oh?”

Severus nodded. “It’s Snape. And he was trying to get you but I couldn’t let him!”

It was a good thing Severus had such a good grip on Harry, or else he would have fallen over from the shock. “Snape?”

“Yes. It was odd. He was my spitting image, except he was so angry he looked almost mad. He kept saying that he was going to you, that you didn’t know me, only him, and that made you hate me. I was a coward, unworthy of your love.” Severus pulled away from Harry and looked him straight in the eye. “I know I don’t deserve you, of course,” he said. “But I know you do love me regardless. It was only in my dreams I had doubts that you could ever return my affections.”

Harry didn’t move. He didn’t know quite what to make of Snape’s dream or how to address his theories about the identity of You Know Who. So he replied in the only way he knew how – honestly.

“You’re a good man, Severus. I’m lucky to have such a prince in my life. You have no idea how worried I’ve been since you were bitten.”

Severus seemed to relax. “It’s quite juvenile to get so worked up over a dream. I apologize for disturbing your sleep.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replied. He yawned. Maybe he _would_ be able to get back to sleep. “Are you going back to bed?”

“I’m rather tired,” Severus admitted. He paused. “Would you stay with me? I promise I will not accost your honor,” he said hurriedly, “but I find your presence greatly eases my peace of mind and I fear I won’t be able to go back to sleep and face my dreams without knowing you are close by.”

Harry almost said no. He always had difficulties falling asleep, and found it next to impossible to do it in any bed but his own. Well, technically this bed was his as well, but it didn’t have his usual sheets and pillows and…

Severus Bloody Snape was looking at him like a dejected pup about to be kicked off the doorstep into the rain.

Who even knew he was capable of such a look?

With a sigh, Harry gently pushed Severus so he could get into bed beside him. “Only for tonight,” he said sternly.

Severus immediately wrapped his arms around him. “Yes,” he agreed, his voice tickling Harry’s ear. “Only for tonight.”

~*~

Rays of sunshine beaming through the window woke Harry up. With a lazy sigh, he rolled over in the bed. He frowned. Something felt a bit off. He stretched an arm out to grab his glasses off the bedside table and found that they were out of his normal reach.

As Harry finally managed to locate his glasses and put them on, memories from earlier in the morning slowly pervaded his consciousness. Snape had a nightmare and didn’t like to be called Snape, and then Harry had spent the night in his bed.

But now Severus was nowhere to be found.

Harry got out of bed and immediately began searching the house. “Severus?” he called. “Are you are here?”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be so rude as to abandon you without letting you know.”

Harry jumped. “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the toilet.”

“It’s no matter. I trust you slept well?”

“Yeah, I did,” Harry said. “I actually haven’t slept that well in ages, nor as late.”

“I’m glad.” Severus stared at Harry for a long moment. “I wanted to thank you for last night. It was a rather embarrassing situation for me, and I do appreciate the care with which you treated me.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Harry said immediately. “I have nightmares all the time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Nevertheless,” Severus said, and he took Harry’s hand it his own. “I am grateful. I’ve been working on something all morning that I would like to give you in thanks.”

“I don’t need a thank you present,” Harry said immediately. “I didn’t do anything – ”

“Then think of it as an engagement present. Please, Harry.”

Harry looked down at where his and Severus’s hands were joined. So much had changed in only two days. To go from years of having this man hate him, to eighteen months of thinking he might never wake up, to suddenly having him look at him so earnestly, so obviously eager to please _him_ of all people, was mind-boggling, to say the least.

And so, even though Harry was so terribly afraid of leading Severus on during such a vulnerable time, he found himself unable to resist.

“Of course,” he said, and smiled when Severus raised his hand to his lips and kissed it. “Let’s see it.”

“It’s still a work in progress, you realize,” Severus said as he led Harry downstairs into the parlor. “When I woke up this morning it was as if the image were seared on my eyelids. But there are still some details I need to adjust.” He picked up a scroll that was resting on an end table and handed it to Harry. “Let me know what you think.”

Harry carefully unrolled the scroll and gasped. It was a coat of arms. The field of green was dissected by a thick diagonal stripe of gold. A white lily adorned the upper left, while a stag and doe gazed resolutely at Harry from the lower right.

Even unfinished, it was breathtaking.

“You needn’t feel you have to lie to spare my feelings,” Severus said. “As I said, it’s not final yet. I wanted to incorporate some silver in it as well.” He paused. “Are you…displeased?”

Harry shook his head dumbly. He couldn’t believe that Severus Snape, the spiteful old Potions Master who went out of his way to make Harry’s schooldays miserable, had created this beautiful coat of arms for him. And since they had established that Severus only remembered the things that held the most meaning for him, that he had chosen to adorn the shield with a lily brought a lump to his throat. What’s more, the stag and doe were a stunning vision of stark elegance against the deep green field. They stood close together, clearly united, their stance strong and silent. The stag was protecting the doe, but the doe was clearly also protecting her mate.

Harry couldn’t find the words to adequately express his appreciation of such a gift. So he did the only thing that came to mind: he kissed Severus square on the lips.

Severus seemed startled at first, but quickly wrapped his arms around Harry and pulled him closer. When his tongue danced across Harry’s lips, Harry immediately opened his mouth and welcomed it.

Kissing Severus made Harry feel as if he were exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He couldn’t comprehend the relief coursing through his veins, or why he couldn’t help but think _finally_ as his lips moved against Severus’s, but he did know that it felt bloody amazing and he didn’t ever want to stop.

“We have to stop,” Severus said huskily, even as he continued to pepper Harry’s mouth with small kisses. “We have to stop.”

“No,” Harry murmured.

“We must,” Severus repeated. This time he pulled away from Harry. “I have not come this far to risk accosting your virtue so close to our wedding.”

Severus’s words crashed over Harry like a tidal wave of ice-cold water. He stumbled away, ashamed of himself. How could he have lost control of himself so much to kiss a man who was harboring delusions of being his fiancé? The guilt was nauseating.

“You’re right,” Harry said. He looked down so Severus couldn’t see the way his face was flaming. “You’re right. Um, it’s beautiful. Of course.” He handed the scroll to Severus without looking at him. “Um, I’m just going to go wash up. I was going to see if I could find somebody to take you shopping to buy some new robes today, if that’s alright with you.”

“Thank you,” Severus replied. “You don’t wish to come along?”

“Not this time, I have some things to do around the house.”

“Just as well,” Severus said. “I would like to at least browse for a wedding present as well.”

Harry forced a weak smile. “Great. I’ll let you know in a bit who’s coming to get you.”

It was peculiar. As Harry walked away, he still felt weighted down by guilt over his actions. But more than that, he could almost feel himself floating to the sky from the sheer memory of Severus’s kiss.

~*~

Hermione and Kingsley arrived at exactly the same time.

“Come in,” Harry said in an undertone as he opened the door. “Just so you know, he still thinks he’s a prince, so you need to act like it. You know, bow, and whatever it is you girls do.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed past Harry. “It’s called a curtsy, Harry. Honestly.”

Kingsley shook Harry’s hand. “Don’t worry, Harry. Minerva had me study up how to treat royalty.”

Harry ushered Kingsley into the parlor. Severus was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back. It was quite peculiar; when Severus was at Hogwarts, he stalked the corridors as if the castle was his own, but his confidence was fueled by anger and bitterness. The stone corridors and floors were cockroaches he crushed beneath his boot. Now, as he stood silently in the room, he possessed that same confidence, but it was imbued with pride and grace that put him both at one and at command of his surroundings. It made him seem larger, somehow, regal, and disturbingly attractive.

Harry coughed. “Um, Your Royal Highness, may I present to you Miss Hermione Granger and Mister Kingsley Shacklebolt?”

Harry watched with some wonderment as Severus accepted Kingsley and Hermione's murmured greetings with the grace and presence befitting of royalty. To think that this was Professor Snape holding court in his parlor... he shook his head, a fond smile crossing his face. Sure, Severus was not well, and Harry hoped he'd regain his memory soon, but the vision before him was quite sweet.

"Hermione stopped by to help me out with a few things while you're gone," Harry explained. "Kingsley has agreed to escort you to get some new robes and whatever else you need."

"We'll have to stop at Gringotts first," Kingsley said. "They wouldn't let me withdraw any money from your account, even with Harry's consent."

"As they very well shouldn't," Severus sniffed. "Harry and I are not yet wed."

Hermione gasped. Harry quickly nudged her with his elbow. "Yes, well, it's no matter. Go enjoy yourselves."

Severus nodded and lightly bussed Harry's cheek. "I’ll be back before supper." He then turned and swept out the door, giving Kingsley no choice but to follow him. As he was leaving, Harry heard him say, "You have a rather presumptuous name for a commoner, don't you?"

Harry chuckled and turned to face Hermione. Her gloomy countenance quickly caused any good humor he had to evaporate. "Um, so. Yeah."

"Yeah is right," Hermione said. She plopped in a chair gracelessly, reminding Harry so much of the eleven-year-old girl he had first met. "Merlin, Harry. I know you said he thinks he's a prince and you're his beloved, but to actually see it..." She rested her head in her hands. "How do you stand it?"

"It's not that bad," Harry said, feeling suddenly defensive. "He's not the greasy git we always said he was. He's a hero. I told you how -- "

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," Hermione said hurriedly. "I'm not asking how you stand living with him. I'm asking how you stand having to play along with his delusions, especially ones as outlandish as this. Doesn't it feel cruel?"

Harry flushed. "Yeah, about that...that's the reason I asked you to come over."

Hermione got that dangerous look on her face she got whenever she had an idea what stupid thing he or Ron had done but was waiting for them to voice out loud so she could hex them without feeling guilty. "Harry James Potter, what did you do?"

Harry looked out the window. There was nothing to see, but it was a right lot safer than facing Hermione. "Imayhakim."

Even turned away from Hermione, he could feel her eyes drilling holes in the back of his head. How did she _do_ that? "What did you say?" she asked, her voice steely.

"I kissed him, okay?" He whirled around to look at her. "I kissed him. And it was amazing."

"Harry, do you have any idea how unethical that is? He is in a very vulnerable state at the moment and doesn't know who he is. You can't really consider that to be appropriate, consensual behavior."

"I know, Hermione, I know." Harry dropped himself in the chair beside her and held his head in his hands. "I didn't mean for it to happen, I swear. He's just been so great to me, and he drew me this coat of arms, and it was all so romantic. " He shook his head. "I don't know what came over me. I just got caught up in it all."

Hermione's expression softened. "Harry, you have to remember that this isn't _really_ Snape. When he comes to, do you really think he's still going to be Prince Charming?"

Harry closed his eyes, miserable. "I know. I know he hates me. I know that it's only because he hates me so much that he remembers me at all. But damn it, Hermione, this is the first time I've ever really felt something, you know? I know it's right awful of me, but I _like_ him acting like he's in love with me. We only kissed this morning and it's all I can think about. Do you have any idea how tempting it is to just go along with all of it? And I don't mean like I had been before, with acting like he's a prince, but acting like we're really about to be married? Christ, Hermione, I would _love_ that, to actually feel for just a little while that somebody incredible actually loves me for me, and the only thing that's stopping me is knowing that one day he's going to remember everything and will hex me seven ways past Tuesday."

Hermione took Harry's hand. "Harry, I know it's hard. But you know it's all an illusion. And think about yourself! Do you really fancy yourself in love with Severus Snape, or just this Prince Severus character?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "And I wouldn't say I'm in love, anyway. But I have feelings...if Severus Snape acted like he does when he thinks he's a prince, yeah, I definitely think I _could_ fall in love with him."

"Listen to what you're saying, Harry!" Hermione said with a slight laugh. "You'd love him if he acted like he did when he thinks he's a prince."

"Not the whole prince aspects, of course," Harry said. "Merlin knows I could do without all the bowing and the like. But how he cares for me and wants to please me...I could easily become addicted to that."

Hermione looked as if she were about to cry. "Oh, Harry," she whispered.

Harry shrugged. "It's fine. With any luck he'll wake up tomorrow and remember everything, so I won't even have to worry about it."

They sat silently for awhile, the only sound in the room the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. It was comfortable, however, and Harry was glad he'd had enough sense to write Hermione when he felt like he was losing his mind.

He was just about to suggest they get something to eat when Hermione broke the silence.

"So, is it safe to say you like men?"

For some reason, Harry found this outrageously funny. A giggle escalated into a chuckle until he was laughing so hard no sounds were even coming out. Although she seemed confused at first, Hermione soon joined in, and, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, they laughed themselves silly.

~*~

Severus arrived back at the house several hours later holding an exquisitely wrapped box in his hands.

Kingsley was just behind him with seven bags hanging from his elbows and his hands piled high with boxes.

"Many thanks for your assistance, Shacklebolt," Severus said. "I will admit you have a keen eye for fashion."

"It was my pleasure," Kingsley replied, his low voice rumbling with undisguised affection.

Harry felt an odd feeling rather like jealousy worm through his stomach. "I appreciate your help, Kingsley," he said, hoping he could hear the unspoken request to take his leave.

Severus set the package down and took Harry's hand in his own. "I do hope you don't mind if I bid you farewell? Harry and I have some things to discuss."

Harry gripped Severus's hand. It was dangerous to get attached like this, but Merlin, it gave him such a thrill to hear Severus talk about them as a unit, as a couple who had things to discuss _together_.

"Of course," Hermione said, and Kingsley nodded.

After they had said their goodbyes, Harry and Severus returned to the parlor. "I only want to change, and then we can begin our talk," Severus said. "Why I only had black in my wardrobe, I'll never know. It rather washes me out, doesn't it?"

Harry could only stare incredulously at him. It was remarkable how much changed about Severus once he lacked parts of his memory. It almost broke Harry's heart. At this moment, Severus seemed content, confident, and comfortable with his place in life. His most pressing concern was finding flattering robes. But Harry knew he could never forget how Severus spent so many years bitter, broken down, and abusive. He was sure it was at least partly due to his memories of losing Lily and being a Death Eater. This new Severus held promise. He had hope. That was something Harry was willing to bet the Severus of his past never had.

 _I don't want him to get his memory back,_ Harry realized. The thought had floated through his head before, but it was so nebulous that it was not a concern. But actually voicing it made Harry realize how very true it was. He felt guilty for it, to be sure – how selfish was he to hope Severus never remembered all the things that made him _him_? But Severus seemed to be so much happier. _And I'm happy as well, because instead of despising me, this Severus loves me._

"Much better, I think."

Harry felt his jaw drop. Severus looked fantastic. The black of his hair against the crimson robes provided a dramatic contrast, and the red color warmed his skin. He was no longer the intimidating professor of Harry's schooldays, but a very striking, attractive man whom Harry would be crazy to not want.

“You look great,” Harry said, surprised his voice came out more than a croak. “Really great.”

Severus seemed pleased. “Thank you.” He took a seat next to Harry. “I was hoping you could answer a question for me.”

Harry felt his heart sink. “Of course.”

“Could you please explain the rather hideous tattoo on my arm?”

Harry let out a breath. Certainly, it was not a great question to have to answer, but he was rather relieved it was not a question about their relationship. “It’s a bit complicated,” he said. “Let’s just say you went through a rather bad time in your youth and the tattoo is a scar of that time.”

Severus frowned. “Why would I do such a thing?”

“I don’t know. You never really told me.” Which was true, Harry thought. Harry had only guessed and viewed some of Severus’s memories. He had never actually _told_ him anything.

“Was it something to do with that You Know Who?”

Harry coughed. Obviously the answer was yes, but Severus still thought You Know Who was Snape. What a mess. “Um, yes. In a way. Do you mind if we talk about something else?”

Severus clasped Harry’s hand. “Of course. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was only curious.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry muttered. He felt rather flustered with Severus sitting so close to him and holding his hand. He hoped he was able to keep it together.

“So why don’t we speak of more pleasant things? Such as, our courtship.”

 _Out of the frying pan, into the fire._ Harry frantically tried to think of a way to evade the question. “You mean you don’t remember? Then how did you know we were engaged?”

Severus’s thumb traced Harry’s fingers. “I dreamed of you, of course. I dreamed of your eyes, of your fascinating scar.” He brushed away Harry’s fringe and kissed the scar in question. “And when I woke up, your name was on my lips, even before I understood its significance. As soon as you entered the room, it was as if all the life had returned to my body. Every part of me was screaming that you were mine, my chosen one, my intended. I can’t rationally explain it; I simply knew.”

Harry felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Who would have known behind Snape’s imperturbable exterior was such an intense, passionate man? And for him to feel this way about _Harry_ , of all people. It made him feel rather dizzy.

“So, our courtship?” Severus prompted. “How would you describe it?”

Harry stared into Severus’s eyes, mesmerized. “Magical.”

This time, when Severus kissed him, Harry had no hesitation in kissing back.

~*~

Harry set his book down with a sigh. He wasn’t sure who he was kidding by thinking he could focus enough to actually comprehend what he was reading. He had just spent a very pleasurable evening trading kisses with Severus. They had only stopped when their stomachs began growling rather embarrassingly and they took a quick break for supper. Afterward, they returned to the parlor and sat curled up together in front of the fire, simply taking pleasure in the feel of their bodies touching.

Harry groaned. He was a dead man.

Being with Severus was the sweetest feeling he had ever known. He had never felt this comfortable with another person. He felt a small thrill every time Severus so much as looked at him. It made that monster he felt in his chest when he started dating Ginny seem like an overeager puffskein.

He needed to tell Severus, Harry realized. He would talk with Wilhelm first, of course, to see the safest way to go about it, but there was no way Harry could continue on this path. He knew that if Severus woke up the next day with his memory completely intact, Harry would still love to be with him. But he couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t even have the chance. Severus would be furious with what he would undoubtedly view as Harry’s deception. The man was suspicious by nature, and it wasn’t as if Harry hadn’t given him plenty of reason to think the worst of him over the years. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that Severus would think he had lied to him, or was purposely seeking to humiliate him by pretending to be interested in him. Then Harry would have _no_ chance. He needed to get out while he still could emerge at least relatively unscathed.

Damn it. When did he become responsible?

He supposed it was a sign he was growing up.

A low groan interrupted his thoughts. Harry immediately jumped out of bed and headed to Severus’s room.

“Snape! Get away from him! Harry! He lies! SNAPE!”

Harry sat beside Severus and gently shook him awake. “Severus. Severus, it’s only a dream. I’m here.”

“Harry,” Severus murmured, and reached for his hand. “Harry. You’re here.”

Harry pushed back Severus’s sweaty hair and lightly kissed his brow. “Of course.”

Severus pulled Harry towards him, until he was almost lying on the bed. “Stay with me.”

Harry pulled the blanket over them and curled up around him. “Always.”

~*~

Harry awoke to the feeling of something hard pressing against his bum. Lazily, he pushed back on it. “Mmm,” he murmured.

The hardness immediately left. Harry frowned as Severus hastily got out of bed and pulled a robe over his pyjamas. “Why are you all in a hurry?”

“I apologize, Harry,” Severus said stiffly. “That was grossly inappropriate of me. You have my word it will not happen again.”

Slowly, the import of what Harry had felt seeped into his brain. _Severus has morning glory_. He barely suppressed a giggle. “It’s fine, Severus. Really. It happens to everybody.”

Severus looked furious with himself. “We will not sleep together any more. Not until we’re married. I won’t risk it.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Severus, don’t be ridiculous. It’s fine. Besides, you didn’t have a single nightmare while I was with you, did you?”

“No. But that’s beside the point.”

“Severus, you’re being absurd. I can’t sleep if you’re screaming. I’d much prefer to sleep with you, even if it means one of us wakes up with an erection. We’ll live. And we’ll both be more rested.”

Severus pursed his lips together. Finally, with a frustrated shake of his head, he excused himself to wash up.

Harry let out a breath. Well, _this_ was an interesting development. He had grown _very_ comfortable with the idea of Severus as a sexual being over the past couple of days. However, now that he had real, hard proof…

He groaned. God, Severus had been so hard. And from what he could feel, hung as well. Harry wasn’t familiar with more than the mechanics of gay sex, but even he could tell what felt good, and the sensation of Severus’s hard prick rubbing against his crack felt bloody fantastic.

He spared about seven seconds to wonder if this was proper, and then decided that his prick didn’t give a fuck and he needed to get a move on if he wanted to get off before Severus emerged from the loo.

Leaning against the wall to steady himself, he tugged his pyjama bottoms down and eagerly wrapped his fingers around his erection. He shuddered at his touch. God, just imagining what Severus’s prick looked like nearly pushed him over the edge. Was he cut, or did he like playing with his foreskin just like Harry was doing now to his own cock? It was pretty long, Harry knew, but he wondered what its girth was like. He’d like nothing more than to strip Severus of his clothing and wrap his hand around his hard prick, rub it up and down, tease his balls…

Harry gasped as he did just that. God, what he wouldn’t give to have Severus’s prick in his hands instead of his own. He would stroke it up and down, taking extra care around the head. And maybe, if he were feeling daring, he would lick it. No, not maybe, he _would_ , he would swirl his tongue around the head, teasing him until he was a babbling mess, and then Harry would take his cock in his mouth, and suck, and Severus would have his fingers in Harry’s hair and he would cry out his name as he climaxed, shaking, shuddering…

Harry couldn’t hold back his own cry as he came. He allowed himself a short while to compose himself and clean the stickiness from his hands and stomach, and then quickly pulled his pants back up. Merlin, Severus had gone mental just at Harry feeling his prick through his pants. Imagine if he had seen Harry with his hand on his prick post-orgasm. He probably would have fainted.

Grinning, Harry returned to his bedroom to begin getting ready for the day. It was already off to a pretty great start, and he had a feeling it was going to stay that way.

~*~

To Harry’s surprise, Severus said nothing more of the morning’s incident or even expressed any sort of discomfort as they sat together eating breakfast. He was not surprised, however, at the words that escaped Severus’s mouth as he set down his tea.

“We should begin our wedding plans.”

Harry felt his stomach drop. He had already written Hermione and asked her to come over the next day so they could talk about how Harry should approach the situation with Severus and Healer Wilhelm. But now he had to figure out what to do in the meantime.

“It will obviously be the wedding of the century,” Severus said. “The Wizarding world hasn’t seen a royal wedding since – ” His brow furrowed, and Harry wondered if he was realizing a kink in his princely identity. “Well, certainly not in recent memory. It may be necessary for us to coordinate a parade.”

“A parade?” Harry balked. “You can’t be serious.”

Severus frowned. “Well, I do believe it is customary. We’ll be in our formal robes, and we’ll ride in on Abraxans. You could possibly ride a unicorn, but I imagine one would shy away from me, and I believe it would be more aesthetically pleasing if we matched.”

Harry tried his best to school his expression as to not reveal his utter dismay. “Well, where exactly would this parade route be?”

“We would be married at Hogwarts, of course. I imagine a route around the grounds would be rather charming.”

Well, that wouldn’t be too bad, Harry thought, and then stopped himself. There wasn’t going to be any wedding and he needed to stop thinking that there was.

“Well, I guess that would be alright,” Harry agreed.

“If you’ve no objection, I’d like to see us wed before winter. I do detest the cold.”

“This winter?” Harry squeaked.

“Yes,” Severus said firmly. “Frankly, after this morning’s incident, I’m not sure how we’ve gone this long without being married. “

Harry felt his cheeks burn. “Um, I’m not sure I’m all _that_ great of a catch.”

Severus stood up from his chair and bent down to kiss Harry’s lips. “You are the most handsome man I have ever had the pleasure to know. Coupled with my love for you, you must know I find you utterly irresistible.”

“You don’t even remember why you love me,” Harry said, trying to sound as if he were teasing. Really, he was only dazedly remembering that he was supposed to be avoiding leading Severus on until he had talked with Wilhelm.

“I may not remember the how of it, but I certainly remember the why,” Severus insisted. “You are brave, passionate, noble, kind, intelligent… even if I were only judging you on your behavior from the time I awoke, I would know you are a man well-worth being in love with.”

Harry looked down at his hands. The words warmed his heart, and he’d love nothing more than to _show_ Severus just how much they meant to him. But right now he couldn’t help but feel he didn’t deserve them, and the guilt was overwhelming.

“I have something that might cheer you up,” Severus said. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you retrieve my crown? I assume it was in my belongings that St. Mungo’s gave you.”

“Um, right,” Harry said. “I have it in my room for safekeeping. I’ll go get it.”

When Severus went to his room, Harry entered his own and tried to figure out what to do. He couldn’t just up and say Severus didn’t have a crown, because what prince didn’t? But with each minute, he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the deception.

Promising himself this would be the last time he would actively participate in Severus’s delusions, Harry found a quill and quickly transfigured it into a gold crown. Giving it some more thought, he added a few sparkling diamonds and emeralds. He almost added etchings of a few snakes, thinking of Slytherin, but decided this Severus probably wouldn’t appreciate or understand there being a picture of the creature that nearly killed him on his crown. Instead, Harry added a few decorative lines and swirls.

It was certainly a crown fit for a prince. Or, Harry thought with a fond smile, a Prince.

~*~

When Severus walked back into the parlor, an entirely cavalry of Abraxans could have stampeded in through the front door and Harry wouldn’t have noticed.

Severus could have stepped out of a book of fairy tales. He looked perfectly at ease in robes that would blend in perfectly with the sky at twilight and were glistening with golden threads. They were elegant and luxurious, and Harry yearned to reach out to feel if they were as soft as they looked. He noticed rather belatedly that Severus was also holding the wrapped package from the previous day.

“I see you have my crown.”

It took Harry a few seconds to register that Severus was even speaking. Hands trembling, he held out the object in question. “Um, yeah. Polished and everything.”

To Harry’s immense surprise, Severus set the package down and then dropped to one knee and bowed his head. “If you’d do me the honor.”

As if in a dream, Harry saw his hands gently place the crown on Severus’s head. He gasped at the sight before him – Severus kneeling before him, the crown looking as natural on his head as a simple cap, his stature part submission and complete reverence. Harry glanced at the mirror on the wall from the corner of his eye. His suspicion was correct; they looked like something out of a damn Renaissance painting.

“I pledge my life to you, Harry Potter,” Severus said. “For as long as I walk this earth, I will do everything in my power to treat you with the respect and devotion you deserve. My body, mind, and soul will forever be in your hands.”

Harry couldn’t find words to respond. How did Severus, who didn’t have a drop of royal blood in him, still manage to sound so solemn and sincere in his oath of fidelity? Harry found himself floundering trying to figure out how to say “thank you” without sounding like a prat.

Then Severus slipped a ring on his finger.

“I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow.”

“Oh, Severus,” Harry breathed.

Severus brushed his lips over Harry’s hand and stood up. “My own,” he whispered against Harry’s ear, and then placed a tender kiss on his lips.

Harry didn’t release Severus from his embrace. “You’re the most incredible man I’ve ever known.”

“Hmph. I should think so.” There was a slight smile on his lips. “I have something else for you.” Loosening himself from Harry’s grip, he handed him the wrapped package. “I will leave you to it. I’ll be in the garden when you’re done.”

The second Severus walked out the door, Harry ripped into the package. He was not tremendously surprised to see the box contained a set of dress robes, but he was taken aback by how clearly well made they were. These were not just a set of standard dress robes. They seemed to be almost made of water and flowed smoothly in his hands. He couldn’t quite pin down the color either – at times they appeared to be a deep, endless blue, but then he could also almost swear they were green. They rather reminded him of the North Sea after a storm. Harry quickly slipped them on and fastened the sterling silver clasps. The robes felt just as soft as Severus’s had looked, and Harry wondered if they were made of the same material.

Harry found Severus standing in the garden underneath the willow tree. He smiled at him, feeling rather as nervous as a teenager at his first Yule Ball.

Severus held out a hand and drew Harry to him. “You’re a vision.”

Harry smiled. “Thank you. The robes are wonderful.”

“I’m pleased you like them. Now, I was hoping we could finish our earlier wedding discussion.”

Harry tried not to stiffen. “Um, do you mind if we wait till tomorrow? I’m just a little tired.”

“I think I know why you’re so hesitant,” Severus continued. “I sensed you were not comfortable with the grandeur of the wedding I was proposing.”

“Well, yeah,” Harry said honestly. “It did seem a bit much. No offense.”

“You desire something simpler, perhaps? More intimate?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “With just our family and friends. We could still do it at Hogwarts, if you like. I do love Hogwarts.”

“Or perhaps just the two of us, alone, here in your garden, just as we are now.” Severus’s eyes met Harry’s. “Would that be more to your tastes?”

How did Harry ever find Severus’s eyes to be dark and foreboding? There was so much raw emotion hidden in there. Harry would be quite content to stare at them all day, getting to know every fleck of mocha in the black of the irises. “Yes,” he finally said. “That would be nice.”

“Harry,” Severus whispered.

Harry couldn’t help himself. Careful not to disrupt the crown’s perch on Severus’s head, Harry wrapped his arms around him and kissed him.

Severus looked inordinately pleased when Harry finally pulled away. He kissed Harry’s cheek once more before removing his crown and handing it to Harry. “One second,” he promised. Deftly, he snapped a piece of a branch off the willow tree and pointed his wand at it. Harry watched in wonder as the branch transformed into a golden crown that was a twin to the one he was holding. Severus held it in the palms of his hands as if he were holding the world’s most precious potion and he was terrified of spilling even a single drop.

“Harry Potter, I give you my crown and my heart. Do you accept?”

The air was tingling with the unmistakable air of powerful magic. Harry felt it tickling his skin and warming his soul. A voice inside his head whispered that he needed to step back and question exactly what was happening, but a far louder voice was screaming at Harry to continue, for nothing in the world had ever felt this perfect. Besides, there was nothing threatening about this wave of magic. It was actually quite warm and lovely, as if Harry had been sitting in front of the fire eating soup on a blustery day.

“Yes,” he said firmly, and the magic swirled around them. The words escaped his lips without any thought. “Yes, Severus, I accept your crown and your heart and give you all I have to give.”

Slowly, the two crowns rose in the wind until they were just about Harry and Severus’s heads. Then, as if they were made of liquid gold instead of solid metal, they passed through each other, shone brightly, and then floated back down to their heads. Severus’s looked as if it was made entirely of gold and silver coils and knots, and Harry knew without even looking that the one on his own head was identical.

“Harry,” Severus said, taking his face in his hands. “My chosen one. My husband.”

~*~

 _Husband._

It was a good thing Severus was still holding Harry’s hand, because he had no idea how he would have stayed standing otherwise. He thought they had been playing around a bit, maybe doing a rather elaborate engagement ceremony. But now Severus was acting as if they really were married. Harry was still holding on hope that this was an elaborate ruse and that Severus would start laughing in about five minutes.

Then he saw that they were standing outside of Severus’s room, and he was holding his arm out toward the bed, his intention clear.

And at that second, Harry knew without question that somehow this was real. Because there was no way in hell that this Severus would bring Harry to bed unless they were really and truly wed.

Harry knew he should have bolted, or at the very least finally come clean to Severus. But right now, more than anything, he wanted to see just what it was like to be in bed with Severus and not just sleep.

Severus took off his crown and set it on a side table. Silently, Harry followed suit. He could feel his heart practically leaping out of his chest. He had half a mind to run to the loo to vomit, or at least flush his terribly overheated face with water. He was in way over his head. He and Ginny had never progressed past kissing, and now he was about to have his first real sexual encounter with Severus Snape of all people.

Well, at least they already got the awkward business of admitting he was a virgin out of the way.

“Oh, Harry,” Severus said, and kissed him.

These kisses were different, Harry realized. The kisses he had shared with Severus before had been sweet, wistful, a promise of something wonderful. These were hungry, yearning, and Harry knew he was in danger of drowning and would love every second of it.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow both he and Severus were divested of their clothing and were lying on top of the sheets, each struggling to be as close as possible to the other.

“Harry,” Severus groaned. “God, I never imagined…”

Harry whimpered when Severus pulled away. “Why – ”

“Hush.” Slowly, Severus lined Harry’s sternum with kisses as his fingers toyed with his nipples. As his head dipped lower, Harry felt his breath catch in his throat.

“Oh, god!”

Severus’s tongue flicked at the head of Harry’s cock. Harry gripped the sheets, trying to restrain himself. It would be horribly embarrassing if he came from just one lick. It was one thing to be a virgin; it was quite another to be a virgin who had no control.

“I love your cock,” Severus murmured. He ran his tongue up it, leaving Harry quivering. “I love how hard you get when I look at it, how it twitches when I speak.”

Harry gasped. “God, Severus.”

Severus didn’t say anything, but instead took Harry’s cock in his mouth and sucked.

Harry felt his hips buckle as Severus’s tongue teased his prick. The suction was incredible; it was absolutely nothing like wanking. He involuntarily thrust up, desperate to get even more of that warmth.

Severus’s hands held Harry down as he continued his slow torture. Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down his cheek. His balls tightened and he moaned.

Severus pulled back, but his hands continued stroking Harry’s prick. “That’s right, Harry. Let go.” He licked it from root to head, earning a whining keen from Harry. “Come for me.”

The second Severus wrapped his lips around his cock, Harry was done. Arching upwards, he came with a shout. Severus swallowed his release greedily, not coming up until Harry felt he had given all he had.

“That was incredible,” Harry finally managed to say, and pulled Severus up to him. He kissed him, taking pleasure in tasting himself on Severus’s tongue. _He made me come,_ he thought. _He made me come and he liked it._

“Mmm,” Severus agreed. “You’re still speaking. It must not have been _that_ incredible.”

“Sheer willpower,” Harry said happily. “Believe me, I’m thoroughly spent. I doubt I could get it up again today if I tried.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Severus tutted. “A young, virile man such as yourself. Not able to enjoy all the pleasures of the flesh following his own wedding.”

Harry smiled. Nuzzling Severus’s neck, he pressed his lips there. “Well, I might be able to, if I had the right inspiration.”

Severus thrust up gently against Harry’s thigh. His cock was hot and a bit wet, and felt incredible brushing up against Harry’s skin. “Oh really? How’s this for inspiration?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, licking and sucking at his skin. “It’s a start, I suppose. But I think I need something more. What do you propose?”

“Hmm.” Severus kissed Harry long and hard. When he finally pulled away, Harry saw that he had dipped his fingers in a tin on the bedside table and was rubbing a viscous substance in his hands. “A proposal.” Slowly, he massaged Harry’s chest with his hands. To Harry’s surprise, the substance was quite warm to the touch. “I propose I tell you exactly what I intend to do with you today, and you can tell me if you think it would… _inspire_ you.”

Harry gasped as Severus tweaked his nipple. “I accept.”

“Fine.” Severus’s hands roamed lower over Harry’s body, stopping just below his navel. “You have a beautiful body, Harry. Fit, toned. I could stare at it all day. But mostly I want to explore it with my hands and mouth. I want to taste every centimeter of you.”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Yes, please.”

Severus continued licking and caressing Harry’s skin, but carefully avoided his cock and balls. Instead, he eased behind them and nipped the top of his thighs. “I want to lick you here, Harry. If I swiped my tongue across your hole, would you moan?”

“Oh, god, yes,” Harry admitted. His cock, much to his surprise, was already getting quite interested in the proceedings. “Please.”

Severus immediately made good on his promise. As his tongue slid into Harry’s hole, Harry felt his entire body shudder and melt into the bed. Severus was relentlessly, licking and delving into that secret spot. Harry couldn’t control his whimpers and groans, but Severus didn’t seem to mind. Rather, he only seemed more eager in his ministrations.

It was only when Harry could feel that he was startlingly near a second orgasm that Severus pulled away with a rather smug expression on his face. “I see you are amenable to my proposal.”

“God, yes,” Harry agreed. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“I don’t know,” Harry pleaded. “Please, anything.”

“Hmm. How about this?” After pulling out a tube of lubricant from the bedside table drawer and squirting some on his hand, he carefully eased one finger where a few seconds ago his tongue had been. “How does this feel?”

Harry squirmed. It felt a bit odd, to be honest. Not in a bad way. Just different. He pressed back against the finger. “Okay. But could you – ”

Slowly, Severus began moving the finger in and out. “Like this?”

Harry sighed, growing more accustomed to the situation. “Yes. But maybe.” He flushed, feeling a bit embarrassed, which was ridiculous considering Severus already had a finger in his arse. “Could you give me another?”

A predatory smile passed over Severus’s face. “Your wish is my command.”

Severus soon reduced Harry to a writhing mass on the sheets as he thrust and flexed his fingers. Harry had never felt so stretched or just _united_ as he did then. It was startlingly intimate.

“I want to put my cock there,” Severus whispered into Harry’s ear. “I want to feel your tight arse constrict around me as I thrust into you. I want to feel you come as I pound into you, and then I want to climax as well. And when it’s all done, I want to lick up the remains of our pleasure and then collapse with you until we’ve recovered enough to do it again.” He sucked at one of Harry’s nipples, teasing it until it was a hard little peak. “Does that _inspire_ you?”

“God, yes!” Harry screamed. “Severus, please!”

“Very well. You know I’d never deny you anything.” And then, with infinite care, Severus pushed himself into Harry.

It was really nothing like fingers. It was far fuller, and hotter, and there was just something about knowing it was Severus’s _prick_ in him that overwhelmed Harry. But as Severus slowly thrust in and out, his eyes seeking out Harry’s to ensure he was not in pain, Harry knew he would quickly become addicted to the sensation.

“God, Severus,” Harry said tightly. “God!”

“Yes,” Severus breathed, his thrusts increasing in pace slightly. “You feel so good, Harry. So hot.”

“More,” Harry pleaded. “Please, more.”

Severus’s pace picked up, and Harry struggled to maintain control of himself. This is what he had been missing from his life, he realized. This feeling of fullness, of togetherness…how had he gone this long without it? And now that he knew it, he could never be without.

It was strange, but he realized he had never been as honest with Severus as he was at this moment. Whether Severus was a Prince or a prince, his husband or not, this feeling that was passing between them right now was real, and it was right, and Harry was not going to let it go without a fight.

“Severus!” he shouted, and spurted his release.

Severus’s hips began to pump wildly, and in a few seconds he came with a cry. Harry’s name a sigh on his lips, he lowered himself onto his chest. They kissed languidly, blissfully, content in each other’s arms.

After a moment had passed, Severus slipped his spent cock from Harry’s arse. Then, just as he promised, he licked his seed from Harry’s bum and then the sticky remains from Harry’s stomach as well. Apparently satisfied with his cleanliness, he eased his way back up and took Harry into his arms.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” Harry replied.

 _Yes,_ Harry thought. _This was real._

~*~

Harry woke up to somebody shouting his name. Confused that it wasn't Severus, he jumped out of bed.

"What are you doing?" Severus muttered, groping at Harry. He didn't even open his eyes. "Come back to bed."

"Somebody's at the Floo," Harry said. He pulled a dressing gown over his body and kissed the tip of Severus's nose. "I'll be back in a bit."

Harry winced a bit as he headed down the stairs. He and Severus had enjoyed a _very_ thorough wedding night. It had felt magnificent at the time, but now he was rather sore. He wondered if there was a potion he could take and then collapse back into bed with Severus to relax before going at it again...

"Harry!"

Harry winced at Hermione's shout. "Yes? What is it?"

"What is it? You tell me to come over and I find you half-naked at three in the afternoon with love bites all over your neck. Honestly!"

"Love bites?"

Harry groaned as Ron stepped out of the fireplace. “Look, Hermione, I know I asked you to come over, but now really isn’t a good time.”

But Hermione was giving Harry that look that said she knew _exactly_ what he was up to and there was no way he was going to escape. “Harry James Potter, how could you even _think_ of doing that to him? It’s practically rape.”

“Hermione, it’s not like that!” Harry protested.

“To _him_?” Ron asked, baffled.

“He thinks he’s a bloody _prince_ , for crying out loud! You can’t honestly think he’s in any right state of mind to give his consent.”

“Hermione, you know I’d never intentionally hurt Severus.”

“Severus? As in Snape?”

“Yes, Ron, of course, Snape. How many Severuses do you know?” Hermione snapped.

“Harry, you’re shagging Snape?” Ron asked incredulously.

Harry felt his face burn with embarrassment. “Um, well, that’s a rather recent development.”

Hermione at least had the good grade to look ashamed. “I’m sorry, Harry. I know you didn’t want to tell him like this.”

“You knew?” Ron exclaimed. “How come you got to know?”

“Because he knew I wouldn’t be shouting and making faces like a deranged monkey, that’s why!”

“Would you just be quiet, both of you!” Harry said. “Severus is sleeping.”

Both Ron and Hermione immediately fell silent. Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

“Harry, why do you have a ring on?”

Harry groaned and put his head in his hands. “If you both promise not to say a word for just five minutes, I’ll tell you everything.”

It took more like ten, but fortunately Ron and Hermione were a decent audience. Hermione kept her face perfectly schooled, the only change in her expression the furrowing of her brow when Harry described their time in the garden. Ron, however, was an open book; in particular, he was like one of those children’s books where each page showed a different cartoon character’s emotion – anger, disgust, sadness, and confusion were all there. But the face he ended on was a bit more difficult to decipher; Harry almost thought it was a bit of tenderness tinted with hope.

“I know once Severus gets his memory back he’ll probably want it annulled,” Harry admitted. “Hell, he might want it done earlier once I tell him that he’s not actually a prince. But you have to believe me. It really was incredible.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Hermione said. “Harry, that was _very_ powerful magic. There’s no way to annul it.”

Harry gaped. “What? I thought it was just one of those freak things when magic sensed your emotions, or some of that rot.”

“In a way, it is,” Hermione said. “But it’s much more than that.”

“She’s right, mate,” Ron said, nodding his head. “Mum always goes on and on about the Verona Spell. Thinks it’s the most romantic thing in the world. She still smacks Dad from time to time that he never suggested they attempt it.”

“Well, it is, rather,” Hermione murmured. Catching sight of the two men staring at her, she coughed and continued. “Well, it is, just by the basic principle of it. Two individuals who have undeniable love for each other, so much so that they don’t even need an outside individual to bind them together in marriage. The power of their love and their good intent is enough to do that.” She sighed. “It really is quite lovely.”

Harry frowned. “So just because Severus was talking about getting married suddenly we actually were? That doesn’t seem ethical.”

“Well, you must have at least implied consent,” Ron offered. “Otherwise the magic wouldn’t have forced you.”

“I don’t get it,” Harry said, shaking his head. Do you mind starting from the beginning?”

Hermione sighed. “Well, it started with the Capulets and the Montagues, of course.”

Harry blinked. The names sounded terribly familiar…

“From _Romeo and Juliet_. Honestly,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s a wonder you remember anything that wasn’t in your defense text.”

“Fine, fine, point,” Harry said. “Go on.”

“Well, they were real people – magic, of course, although Shakespeare couldn’t say that at the time. He was years from writing Macbeth. But anyway, there they were, star-crosse’d lovers and all. But in real life, they couldn’t find a priest willing to come between the families and marry them. So one day they made vows to each other in private, just the two of them, and found that somehow, the magic sensed their intentions and bound them together. They could never be separate for very long.” She frowned. “Of course, it ended up with both of them dead, but I’m sure that won’t be the case with you.”

“Well, thanks for your vote of confidence,” Harry said. But his mind was reeling. He had to admit, this did sound rather fantastic. And this had to mean that Severus, the _real_ Severus, had some love for him, right? How much love was required to make this spell work anyway?

“Well, it’s a bit of a moot point, isn’t it?” Ron asked. “Like Hermione said, it’s really powerful magic. You’d never find a wizard who could break it.”

“Really?” Harry asked, surprised. “How can it be that strong?”

“Simple magical theory, really,” Hermione answered. “The magic only passes between two individuals. No wand is involved to channel the power, no third person as a witness. When the magic has to pass through another vessel, the spell becomes infinitesimally weaker. We wouldn’t notice it because it’s what we’re used to. But you know even an Unbreakable Vow requires a third individual as a witness. The Verona Spell, however, is pure, raw magic passing through only two willing participants. It makes the bond much stronger. You’d likely die if you tried to break it.”

“Not to mention thrown into Azkaban,” Ron added. “There are all sorts of laws protecting it.”

“You’re kidding,” Harry said.

“Nope,” Hermione said. “Romeo and Juliet became the ultimate symbols of doomed love for the Wizarding world. After they died, there was an outcry to protect their type of vow. There was concern that since there was no third party, somebody could rule the bonds invalid. The Ministry decreed that since the spell could only be borne of the truest of intent between two individuals, it could never be broken by outside forces.”

“But how could it work? I know this Severus loves me, but the one I knew for years despised me. It’s the only reason he even remembered who I was.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. We just assumed that was the case. The spell never would have worked if he actually hated you. I think this shows that the reason the professor remembers you is not because he despised you, but because he loved you that much.”

Harry collapsed in a chair. “Well. I guess this means I really am married.”

“Congratulations,” Hermione smiled, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’s truly a very special thing. There have only been about a hundred couples who’ve done this in five centuries.”

“And you’re okay with this?” He looked directly at Ron, who shrugged.

“I mean, Snape would never be my first choice for your husband,” he replied. “But I can’t really argue with the spell. You’re still my best friend.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Ron.”

“Don’t mention it. Um, we can do our manly hug when you’re dressed.”

Harry laughed and pulled his dressing gown closer around his body. “Fair. Um, did you want to stay around? Only thing is Severus has been a little, um, amorous.”

Hermione blushed. “No, we wouldn’t dream of interrupting your honeymoon. But Harry, you do realize that even though the fact that this spell proves that he really does love you, when he regains his memory he will also regain his personality? He’s hidden his true feelings for you for who knows how long and he’s not likely to be ready to reveal them to you right away, if at all. He’ll probably fight you every step of the way.”

Harry hadn’t thought of that, actually. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Well, luckily for me,” he said with a wry grin, “it sounds like he’s stuck with me for life.”

~*~

“I thought you had abandoned me,” Severus groused from the bed. “What took you so long?”

Harry untied his gown and slid back under the covers with his husband. He loved the way Severus’s arm immediately tucked him into an embrace. “Ron and Hermione stopped by. They hadn’t realized we had gotten married.”

“Hmm. Were they offended they didn’t receive an invitation?”

“I don’t think so. They congratulated us.”

Severus made a pleased noise and pulled Harry even closer to him. “Good. I would have regretted it if they found it a breach in etiquette.”

Harry laughed. “Something tells me they’ll be fine.” He twirled a strand of Severus’s hair around his finger. To think that just a week ago he had been visiting St. Mungo’s, half-hopeful his former most-hated professor would wake up, and half-terrified he would do so and then hex him on the spot. And to find out that all that time Severus had actually loved him, and now they were bound together for all time…it was a heady feeling.

“What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Just admiring the man I love,” Harry said, and then set to work giving a practical demonstration of his feelings.

~*~

Harry woke up sweating. Given the chill in the air, his first thought was that he’d come down with a fever, but then he realized the heat he was feeling was concentrated in the chest and arms pressed up against him.

“Severus? Severus, are you okay?”

Severus groaned and tugged Harry closer to him. “Hurts,” he rasped.

Harry gently disentangled himself from Severus’s embrace. “What hurts?”

Severus was trembling. “Everywhere. My head. Harry!”

Harry wiped his brow. He was burning up. “I’m here. You’re going to be fine.” He looked around the room for where he had left his dressing gown. He needed to get a hold of Healer Wilhelm immediately.

A clammy hand reached up to grab his wrist. “Don’t leave me,” Severus pleaded.

“I’m not going to leave you,” Harry promised him, slipping on the gown. “I just need to get help. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

Severus gave no indication he even heard Harry. His arm went limp and he rolled into himself, whimpering in pain.

Harry tried not to panic. People came down with fevers all the time. But the fact that Severus had only recently woke up from being in a coma for more than a year and was already ill made Harry’s heart pound wildly in his chest. At least when Severus was in a coma he looked peaceful. Now he looked miserable and frightened, and that alone terrified Harry.

Within five minutes, Healer Wilhelm arrived. A bevy of potions were poured down Severus’s throat, and eventually he at least appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

“His body seems to be fighting off some type of infection,” Wilhelm said as he collected his empty vials. “Probably nothing too serious. The potions I gave him should get him through the night and deal with some of the more immediate issues. I’ll be back first thing in the morning to examine him more thoroughly.”

“He doesn’t need to go back to St. Mungo’s?” Harry asked as he walked Wilhelm back to the Floo.

“I don’t think so. It’s not uncommon for patients to come down with fevers so soon after waking up from a long coma. His body just isn’t up to the shock of actually moving around.”

Harry nodded. It made sense, but it still frightened him to see Severus so clearly ill. When he made his way back to bed, he placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“Harry,” Severus murmured.

Harry crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around his husband. This wasn’t how he saw his life playing out. Sure, he had waited for Severus to wake up for nearly two years, but that had been out of a sense of duty and need to set things right. Now he was waiting through the night to see how he would come out of a fever. It was a far less serious situation, but it felt infinitely more personal. He took Severus’s health and safety as seriously as his own, if not more so.

“Oh, Severus, what have you done to me?”

The only response was a soft snore.

Harry smiled. He was lost, completely and utterly, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~*~

Severus wasn’t in bed when Harry woke up. Harry took that as a positive sign since clearly he was feeling well enough to get out and about. Smiling, he pulled on his dressing gown and went to find his husband.

He didn’t have to look very far. Severus was in the parlor, collecting items to put into a large, black valise.

“Severus? What’s going on?”

Severus turned around. There was none of the warmth and tenderness in his eyes that Harry had grown accustomed to over the past week. This was the Severus Snape who plagued his childhood – a spiteful, petty man who was fairly boiling over with bitterness and a need to see Harry pay for each and every one of his transgressions.

“I am packing up my things. I will be out of your hair shortly.”

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about? Are you feeling alright?”

“You will call me Snape, Potter, and do NOT TOUCH ME!”

Harry flinched as he pulled back the hand he had been extending to feel Severus’s forehead for fever. “Sorry.” A horrible suspicion crept into his mind. “Do you have all your memory back?”

“Yes. All of it,” Severus spat. “Including how you let me prance around like some bloody fairy believing I was royalty. Enjoyed having a good laugh at your potion master’s expense, Potter?”

“It wasn’t like that!” Harry insisted. “God, Severus, I _care_ about you. You’re my husband!”

Severus turned white. “Don’t you dare say that,” he hissed. “Don’t you even fucking _dare_ say that.”

“But it’s true!”

A roar at the fireplace interrupted them. Wilhelm carefully stepped out and eyed the scene in front of him. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Severus snapped, shutting his valise. “I was just leaving.”

Wilhelm’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you should be leaving just now? How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. Now get the hell out of my way.”

“Just let me do a quick examination,” Wilhelm cajoled. “You gave us quite a fright last night.”

“I’m fine!” Severus shouted. Not even turning to look at Harry, he Disapparated.

Harry staggered under the sudden silence in the room. How did everything go wrong so quickly?

Wilhelm coughed. “So, would you like to talk?”

~*~

Three days later, Harry’s house sparkled. He had cleaned the windows, washed the floors, and dusted all the furniture. In the evening, he collapsed in bed, exhausted from the day’s efforts.

The only room he hadn’t touched was Severus’s. It still hurt too much to even enter the room to collect his things.

He was just thinking about making himself some lunch after polishing the knickknacks in the parlor when Ron and Hermione Flooed into the room.

“Oh, good, you’re alive,” Hermione said, and kissed his cheek.

“Pretty rotten of you,” Ron said as he patted Harry’s arm. “We know you’re heartbroken and all, but the least you could have done was answer our owls.”

“I didn’t know what else to say,” Harry admitted. “I mean, after I told you he got his memory back and ran off.”

“You could have started with ‘you know, I feel pretty awful about that and I could use some company,’” Ron suggested. “Unless, of course, part of that isn’t true.”

Harry shook his head and sat down in a chair. “No, it’s all true. I just don’t know what to do about it. How do I even start? I don’t even know where he Disapparated to.”

“Well, that last part is easy,” Hermione said. “He’s been huddled in the Hogwarts library for days.”

Oh. That made sense. Harry should have known to ask Hermione immediately if Severus had gone back to his old home. Sometimes he still forgot she was a professor now.

“I guess he’s been researching how to get out of the marriage,” Harry surmised. “Can’t say I really blame him.”

“Well, you know there’s no way to get out of it,” Hermione stated. “None. Fortunately, he’s a practical man. Soon enough he’ll realize that the best you two can do is learn to work through it.”

“Hermione, this is Severus Snape we’re talking about,” Harry said. “He may be practical, but he’s also stubborn and he holds a grudge. This ‘soon enough’ you speak of won’t happen for a century.”

“Well, you do have one thing working in your favor,” Ron offered. “He loves you, even if he won’t admit it. I’d say all you have to do is coax it out of him.”

“Yeah? And how do you expect me to do that?”

Ron’s face turned bright red. “Well, you know, there are ways…”

“Ron, honestly,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “Not everything has to be about sex.”

If possible, Ron’s face grew even redder. “Hermione!”

“Snape does love you,” Hermione continued over Ron’s sputtering. “And you love him. Otherwise the bond wouldn’t have worked. You need to remind him of that until you’re blue in the face.”

“Well, that’s a given,” Harry said. “But even if I _can_ get him to admit that, there’s the fact that I lied to him over the past few days. He already thinks I did it purposely so I could have a good laugh about it. He’d never forgive me for that.”

“Well, what if you just say it was on the healer’s orders? That would work, right?”

Harry and Hermione graced Ron with equally incredulous looks.

“He is a very proud and suspicious man,” Hermione finally admitted. “You’re right that he’ll probably think it was a plot to humiliate him. And to be frank, given your track record, I can’t say I blame him.”

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I know. I know. But how do I fix this?”

They sat without saying a word, the only sound the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. It was Ron who finally broke the silence.

“Why not do what you always do, mate? Charge right in with only a goal and no real plan? It’s always seemed to work out pretty well for you.”

Well. It was as good idea as any.

“Right then. Well, feel free to make yourself some lunch. I’ve got a husband I need to get back.”

~*~

Harry managed to make his way into the library without alerting the attention of Madam Pince. He wasn't exactly sure what Hogwarts' policy of alumni using its library was, but he had a feeling he was far less interested in the subject than she was.

He felt slightly less nauseous when found Severus hidden away in the furthest corner of the library, surrounded by teetering towers of books and quills, wearing a set of royal blue robes he had purchased that week. His nose was practically touching the parchment he was scribbling frantically on. When he didn't respond to Harry clearing his throat, Harry moved onto a more direct measure and placed a hand on his shoulder.

Severus jumped, smearing the parchment with black ink. "Potter! What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

Harry smiled. "Indoor voice, Severus. We're in a library. We wouldn't want to attract Madam Pince's attention."

"We are both well past the age of receiving detentions," Severus growled. "You, however, no longer have the protection afforded to you as a student, and there is nothing to stop me from hexing me where you stand."

"Only that you wouldn’t," Harry said. He set down his rucksack and perched himself on the edge of the table.

Severus glared at him. "I wouldn't be so sure of that. Get out."

"No," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest. "We're married, and when married people have problems they talk them out."

"Only if they want to stay married."

Harry felt as if he'd be punched in the gut. Granted, he knew he should expect something like this, but to actually hear it was unbelievably painful. _The bond worked_ , he reminded himself, and forced the confident smile to remain on his face.

"Well, it's not really an option for us now, is it?" he asked. "Unless you've managed to find something in all your research that shows we have a chance of annulling it?"

Severus set down his quill, looking irritated. "No. But that doesn't mean I won't."

"You've been at it for three days already, and from the looks of it, you haven't slept a wink. I think if there were any chance of it, you'd at least have a hint by now."

Severus rubbed his temples. "What do you want, Potter? Just say your piece and let me be."

"Right then." Harry hopped off the table. There was no way he could sit still with all the nervous energy coursing through his veins. He began to pace back and forth between the tables. “First of all, I'm really sorry if you think I was playing along with your whole prince bit as a lark. I only did it because it's what the healer thought would be best, and I was planning on asking him how to go about telling you the day you came down with the fever. You can give me any truth serum you want, or use Legilimency, I don't care. I promise it's true."

"Fine. Is that all?"

"No. Not even close. I think we should start talking about what it will be like to live together. For instance, I noticed that you seem to like sleeping on the left side of the bed. Is that typically true?"

"Potter!" Severus sputtered. "That is _completely_ out of line. Have you lost your damn senses?"

"Too soon? Okay then." Harry paused in his tracks and grinned. "Taking care of the household chores. I don't mind cleaning, but I'm honestly not that great of a cook. How are you at it?"

"Passing fair, but – ” Severus stopped and glared at Harry. "May I remind you that this is not an issue we have any reason to discuss?"

"I disagree with you, Severus. They may seem like minor details, but you have to admit we jumped into this pretty quickly. I think it's best if we just establish a framework and build upon it from there."

"There is nothing to build upon towards," Severus hissed. "So I will thank you to shut your mouth this very instant."

"Of course there is. I want a happy marriage. I'm far too young to be stuck being miserable for all eternity."

Severus slammed his hands down on the table. "Don't you think I know that?" he shouted.

Harry could already hear Madam Pince scurrying toward them. Quickly, he threw up a silencing spell and a few disillusioning charms for good measure. He placed a tentative hand on Severus's shoulder. "Severus?"

Severus shrugged off his touch. "Don't you think I know that?" he repeated, his voice sounding as if it were crawling over sandpaper. "Don't you think I know what it would be like to be trapped with me for the rest of your life?"

"It's been pretty great so far," Harry said quietly.

Severus let out a humorless laugh. "Of course it has. You've been living with a bloody romantic prince."

"True." Harry moved closer to Severus so that just their fingertips were touching. This time Severus didn't move away. "But it was still you. I caught a glimpse of what you're like when you're not all spiteful and angry, and I was lost."

"But I _am_ spiteful and angry," Severus insisted. His fingers, defiant of his own words, twitched against Harry's, as if they ached to be held. "I'm not a nice man. I'm bitter and vindictive, not to mention a Death Eater, spy, and murderer. There is nothing, nothing," he repeated over Harry's protests, "that you can gain by being with me. Nothing except a ruined reputation and a lifetime with a broken-down, disgusting old man."

Harry didn't hesitate; he took Severus's hand in his and held it close to him. He wasn’t sure how Severus would react to what he said next, and there was not a chance in hell he was going to let him get away. “Nothing to gain except for being with a man who loves me so much, when he comes to after more than a year in a coma, the only things he remembers are his name and that I am his."

Severus stared resolutely at the floor. "I didn't remember my name," he said, noticeably neglecting to address Harry’s second point.

"You remembered the things that were the most important to you."

Severus didn't say anything for a long while, but his fingers gripped onto Harry's tightly. Finally, he raised his head, and said, "You don't have to do this, you realize. I may have damned myself, but I have no intention of bringing you down with me."

“Severus, do you think I care at all what other people think? I love _you_.”

Severus looked back down at where their hands were entwined. He shook his head, evidently in complete disbelief. “No. You don’t mean that.”

Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts. His first instinct was to ask Severus if he was _really_ that thick, that the bond never would have worked otherwise, and that he just needed to accept it. But then another thought appeared at the forefront of his mind: this was _Severus_ , his passionate, loving, insecure prince who wanted to do nothing more than protect him. Before his coma, he had done it by denying his feelings for Harry and refusing to act on them, or even give any hint that he felt an emotion for him other than disgust. As a prince, he had nightmares of defending Harry against the evil Snape and did everything he could to make him happy. It was likely not a trait Severus was going to relinquish any time soon, and what’s more, Harry wouldn’t _want_ him to. So if they were going to make this work, he was going to have to accept every piece of Severus, even if it meant reassuring him of his love every minute of every day of every one of their many, many years together.

Decision made, Harry turned Severus to face him and looked him square in the eyes. “I love you. And maybe it happened fast, and maybe it never would have happened if you hadn’t woken up and thought you were a prince. But you know what? I would never have it any other way. I love you, and I know you love m—”

Harry’s words were cut off when Severus’s lips closed over his in a possessive kiss. Abandoning any other dramatic speeches he might have made, Harry threw his arms around Severus and kissed him back for all that he was worth.

“Yes,” Harry murmured against Severus’s neck. He began tugging at Severus’s robes, desperate to feel his skin. “Love this. Love you.”

Severus groaned. “Incredible.” He pulled Harry flush against his body. Harry thrilled at the feeling of his hot length rubbing up against him.

“Guh. Are you sure you want to do this here?” Harry gasped. “I mean, I cast some spells, but. – ”

Severus stopped in his ministrations. “Harry,” he said very seriously. “I know I went on and on about your virtue. Did you – ”

“I was a virgin,” Harry admitted. “And I don’t regret a thing.”

“Are you certain?”

Harry dug out his wand and cast a few extra warding spells just to be safe. “Yes,” he said, as he unfastened Severus’s robes and let them fall to the floor. “Absolutely certain.”

“I don’t have anything to use,” Severus said as Harry began covering his chest with kisses. “I wasn’t thinking of anything but – ”

“But me, I know,” Harry said with a grin. He reached for his rucksack and began digging through it. “Don’t worry. I was prepared for everything.” Triumphantly, he handed Severus a tube of lubricant.

Severus arched a brow at the bag. “What else do you have packed away in there?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Severus, I have you naked in the middle of Hogwarts’ library and have completely offered myself up to you. Do you really want to waste time seeing what I’m keeping in my rucksack?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” Severus replied, setting down the lubricant and tugging at Harry’s clothes, “I’d much rather see what you’re keeping in your pants.”

“That’s more like it,” Harry said, and surrendered.

It was like living every fantasy Harry didn’t even realize he had. To be pinned against a table in the library as Severus licked and nipped his way down his body until he wrapped his lips around his cock and _sucked_ , to feel his lips swelling from kiss after endless kiss, to finally feel Severus _move_ inside of him without ever breaking eye contact, as if he were the single most precious being in the world…it was more than Harry could have ever dreamed of. Here, with Severus, he knew he had everything he could have wanted and more.

It was only after they had spent themselves and finally grown uncomfortable resting on the hard mahogany wood of the library table and were dressing themselves that Severus turned his gaze back to Harry’s rucksack. “So, what else _did_ you bring in your big plans to get me to surrender to your charms?”

Harry grinned lazily as he pulled his shirt back on over his head. “Didn’t really need anything else, did I? I’d say I over-packed.”

Severus growled and nipped at Harry’s neck. “Harry…”

“Fine, fine.” Harry buckled his belt and opened his rucksack. “Well, first, in case it didn’t go well, I brought the bottle of wine. Drown my sorrows and all that.”

Severus took the bottle of merlot. “A good year, at least. Where were you planning on drinking this?”

Harry shrugged. “Hadn’t gotten that far. Also brought this.” He handed the next item to Severus.

“A diary?”

Harry felt his cheeks tingle. “Kept it while you were in a coma and back when you were staying at my house. Thought it might reassure you of my feelings. My life’s an open book.” He paused. “You can still read it, if you like.”

“Thank you,” Severus said, and carefully set down the journal and wine. “Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually.” Harry pulled a scroll out of his bag and handed it to Severus. He smiled as recognition dawned in Severus’s eyes. “Our coat of arms. Our future.” While Severus was still captivated by the shield, Harry removed the final objects from his bag.

The gold and silver of the crown glistened even in the dimly lit library.

Severus stared at it in shock. “From our bonding. Why ever would you bring that?”

Harry stared at the crown silently for a minute. As far as crowns went, it was fairly plain. It had none of the garishness he typically associated with royalty, and had no special adornments other than the intricate twists of precious metals. And yet, this crown meant more to him than any other object he had ever held in his hands. This crown symbolized everything that was right about his relationship with Severus – the perfect melding together of two distinct individuals who were bonded together for life into something beautiful.

Solemnly, he placed the crown on Severus’s head, once again admiring how striking a royal his husband made.

It all could have gone so differently. Severus could have died on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. He could have woken up with his memory completely intact and go on the rest of his life convincing Harry he hated him with every fiber of his being. And what’s worse, Harry could have believed him.

But now, here they were, standing together in the library as if they were the only two beings in the castle, united as one. In the arms of his once most-despised enemy, Harry had found love, passion, and protection.

“Just in case I had to remind you,” Harry finally answered, “that you’ll always be my prince.”

Severus cradled Harry’s head in his hands and lowered his lips to his.

Safe in his prince’s embrace, Harry silently rejoiced, content in the knowledge that they had both found their happily ever afters.

THE END

  
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